


Flying Lessons

by aykayem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-23
Updated: 2011-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aykayem/pseuds/aykayem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco takes a moment to re-teach the finer points of 'flying'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying Lessons

It was a beautiful day: the perfect sort of day for flying. Or, at the very least, some derivative of it.

Clothes lay strewn about some isolated corner of the Quidditch pitch on that Saturday afternoon - neither boy had any fear of being caught, for one reason or another. Potter, because he was cocky and confident - ‘a smug bastard’, as his sometimes-lover might call him; Malfoy, because he knew well that the entire school was either unpacking their things, getting acquainted with the building, or flittering mindlessly around Hogsmeade.

The two of them lay on the dew-covered grass, reminiscing between passionate snogs about their first year at Hogwarts - how much they hated one another, how the Sorting Hat had placed where they were (and how Harry should have been in Slytherin), how Madam Hooch was rarely seen outside flying class and Quidditch matches.

“You must admit, she does teach the first years well. After all, I - someone who had never touched a broom before that day - managed to make youngest Seeker ever.” The remark was made through a laugh; Potter leaned over the blond beneath him, capturing pale lips affectionately.

“Oh, please,” Draco took his lover around the shoulders, flipping him so the more muscular form of the two was pressed into the ground in place of his own, “Maybe for the Muggleborns and you. For the rest of us, it was the same rot our parents taught us - or should have, at least - as small children.”

“Not all of us had Daddy’s social network at their beck and call, Dray; not everyone was taught to fly by Puddlemere United.”

Malfoy ignored the jibe, instead choosing to slide his hand downwards over Harry’s abdomen until it floated teasingly over the other’s bared cock. “Stick out your right hand, and say,” he paused for effect, his words a purr in his lover’s ear, “Up.” The instruction was simple enough, and Harry’s sudden hardness was more than compliant, gladly standing to attention and quivering for another.

The blond grinned to himself, fully prepared to continue his little lesson - it was always good to keep the basics fresh in one’s mind. He grasped Harry’s shaft with the same grip he used to hold a broom; Potter merely regarded him with bedroom eyes, over the frames of his glasses, waiting to see what would happen next - his breath had caught briefly in his throat at the grasp. He’d always enjoyed flying, after all: going for an afternoon ride wouldn’t be much different.

“Keep your broom steady, Potter.” Draco chastised lightly at another anticipatory twitch of Harry’s swollen flesh, “Now...rise up a few feet,” he slowly drew lithe fingers upwards, “And come straight back down.” His hand fell downwards, giving a careful twist towards the base. His lover gave a soft groan, obviously enjoying his lesson.

Malfoy continued to stroke off Potter, purring instructions that bordered on mocking into his ear; the gesture seemed to get him off even faster than usual, sunkissed hips bucking up into one thin hand, begging for more. It was, of course, provided - Draco kept on it until Harry finally came in one hard motion, thick streams running down the blond’s hand. He smirked somewhat at the finish, continuing his purr into his lover’s ear.

“And that, my love, is how you ride a broomstick.”


End file.
